


When all of the work is done

by nodere



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: But he's a good friend, He might be a terrible matchmaker, It's all Matt's perspective, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 06:43:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9166666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nodere/pseuds/nodere
Summary: Matt Holt: Best Friend, Wingman, Matchmaker ExtraordinaireMatt is convinced Shiro needs a girlfriend. When he realizes that the object of Shiro’s interest isn’t a girl, well, he can work with that.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coneyinacap](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=coneyinacap).



> I think the world needs more best friend Matt.

Matt leaned back in his chair, pushing with his long legs until the top edge of the backrest knocked against the wall. He was so thoroughly engrossed in a careful assessment of the students entering the canteen through the main doors that he hadn’t noticed Shiro sit down beside him.

“Hey.”

The chair slammed back down to the floor, and his elbows hit the table, clattering his tray and sloshing the coke out of his glass. The jolt sent Matt’s glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, which he promptly jammed back into place with a middle finger. “'Sup Sho?”

Shiro shrugged, a slight lift of his shoulders and a tilt of his head. “I’m starved. I just cut class to eat.” His plate was mounded high with steaming fried chicken and green beans. He leaned close to breathe it in, eyes closed in ravenous bliss.

Matt stared at him. He must be hungry, he hadn’t even bothered to tell Matt to stow it over that overused misnomer. They’d had an instructor their first year who had gotten it in his head that Shiro’s name was _Shoro_ gane. “They’ve got you on lockdown this semester, don’t they?”

Shiro picked up a wing, cracked the cartilage with a swift twist, pulled out the smaller bone, and shoved the rest of it into his mouth like a lollipop. Before answering, he pulled out the second bone, then covered half his face with his hand, talking and chewing, “I had to go to Observation today to watch the first year cadets do their simulations and then I was supposed to go back to training in the field. Gonna fly that old Blackbird tomorrow.” He swallowed and downed a swig of water. “One of the cadets in the new class already beat all my simulation records. I don’t know where this kid came from, but he’s good and if he can do that in an actual aircraft…” He trailed off.

“Jealous?” Matt asked.

Shiro shook his head. “Nah. You need to see him. He’s not a show-off or anything. He just does it, though he gets irritated if he thinks he’s being treated differently from everyone else. It’s kind of funny.”

“You know,” Matt began, eyeing his friend suspiciously, “If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say you’re more interested in this kid than you are in flying that Blackbird. Mach 3, Shiro! No one else in our class will get to do that for another year at least!”

Shiro shoveled a forkful of beans into his mouth. His face was blank. This time he waited until he’d swallowed his food before speaking. “Iverson thought it would be fun to run him through the Phobos and Deimos supply pick-up.”

“That’s not a skill test, it’s a character test.”

“Yeah… I have never seen a student get so mad at an instructor before. He’s going to have to learn to control that temper.”

“Wait, what happened?” Matt was actually interested now. Commander Iverson was not one to mess around with.

“He figured out how to sneak up behind the enemy craft, pick up the supplies, and get out of there without a confrontation. Iverson said something along the lines of, ‘If I didn’t know any better I’d say you cheated,’ and then he just lost it. They went to go chat in the commander’s office and I came here.”

“Whoa.”

“I-” Shiro began, looking up at the students coming in. He froze, but composed himself quickly, nudging Matt with an elbow, “That’s him.”

Matt squinted through his glasses. “That big guy?”

“No, the one walking by himself. Wavy black hair, maybe five foot eight. Maybe.”

The cadet turned abruptly and looked at them, first at Shiro and then Matt, who was now resting his chin on his palm. Matt smiled and waved with his free hand, but the greeting was not returned. Instead he narrowed his charcoal eyes, tossed his short hair, and resumed his walk toward the café.

“Wow. Okay, that’s a piece of work.”

“I know right?” Shiro followed the cadet with his eyes as he licked his fingers and picked up another piece of chicken.

Sighing, Matt finished off his coke. He had some free time before his first afternoon class and wasn’t in any hurry to leave. He looked around the room. Ever since Shiro had sat down beside him, a few of the girls across the room had been watching them. He certainly couldn’t blame them. Shiro was incredibly personable, kind, and known throughout the Galaxy Garrison as the most talented student they had seen in decades. It didn’t hurt that he was tall, athletic, and conventionally handsome with warm brown eyes and impeccably groomed eyebrows that could probably cut glass. “You need a girlfriend, Shiro.”

“Wha-?” Shiro gasped, the mouthful of chicken catching in his windpipe.

Matt pounded him on the back until he coughed it up and swallowed.

“I do?” Shiro wiped his mouth with his napkin.

“See that table across the room? They’re all looking at you.”

“I just choked on my chicken.”

“They’ve been looking at you since you sat down.”

“Just because they’ve been looking at me doesn’t mean I need a girlfriend.” Shiro closed his eyes to slits and glared at Matt, adding, “I don’t want a girlfriend.”

“Why not?” Now he was confused. Why wouldn’t Shiro want a girlfriend?

“I’m just not interested.”

“Okay.” Matt considered this a moment. It wasn’t a conversation they had ever had. He’d always assumed Shiro was interested in girls. He certainly was. They’d spent weekends in the city together several times over the past two years, gone to clubs and parties, but now that he thought about it, really thought about it, he wasn’t sure at all if Shiro had ever hooked up with anyone. He wasn’t convinced he hadn’t either. He distinctly recalled many occasions where Shiro had disappeared and returned some time later looking more than pleased with himself. That boy could be pretty cagey when he wanted to be, and understandably if he _was_ interested in men, it might not be something he wanted other people to know about. He had to ask though; it was better than continuing to operate under an assumption. “What about guys?”

Shiro hummed as he took another bite of his chicken, ignoring the question. That was all the answer Matt needed.

“So maybe that first-year cadet?”

“Matt, what are you implying?”

“You should talk to him. You haven’t yet, have you?”

“Nope. I was in Observation.”

“What’s his name?”

Shiro looked down wistfully at the pile of bones on his plate. “I don’t know.”

Matt’s jaw dropped. “You didn’t ask one of the officers?”

Shiro shook his head.

“Ugh!” Matt pulled his hands down his face. “You’re impossible!”

+++

Matt had insisted they grab a coffee before heading back to the Garrison after running their errands. It had started to rain and this was preferable to waiting at the bus stop with no shelter.

He had gone to order their drinks at the counter while Shiro sat at their table, since the line was fairly long and there were few empty seats. He hadn’t noticed until he returned with the beverages that Shiro was openly staring at someone at the very back of the line. Even from a partial side view, Matt immediately recognized the first-year cadet who had broken Shiro’s top scores. He’d only seen him the one time before, but there was no mistaking it, this was he. It was partly the way he carried himself, shoulders back despite the casual way he rested his weight on one leg and didn’t shift until the line moved. He was dressed in slim black jeans paired with well-worn combat boots and an over-laundered band tee, a leather moto jacket with fringe across the back and halfway down each arm that looked like it had come straight out of the mid-80s, fingerless leather gloves, and earrings. That was going to get old fast. By about the middle of the first semester, nearly all the students had dropped their last remaining vestiges of personal style. It was just too much upkeep and the weekends would quickly become crammed with studying and long practice sessions in the simulator. He was carrying his dry cleaning, perfectly pressed and starched uniforms, in a clear garment bag draped over one arm.

Matt turned to Shiro. “You should go say hi.”

Shiro sipped his latte and shook his head.

“Why not?”

“I- I can’t do it.”

Matt scratched his head, mussing his sandy brown hair. “If you stare hard enough, he’s going to turn around and realize you’re staring. Then what?”

“I’ll look away and drink my coffee.”

“Shiro, why are you so reluctant to talk to him?”

“He looks upset.”

“No, he looks wet and cold. You’re just saying that because you’re scared of rejection or some garbage.” That should have worked, but Shiro still didn’t budge. He took a swig of his cappuccino, the pleasant heat sliding down his throat to settle in his stomach. So good. He set the cup down with a soft sigh. “I guess I have to do everything, now don’t I?” He stood up and walked over to the cadet, turning around just before reaching him to grin and wink at Shiro, who gulped down another sip of his latte, horrified.

The cadet paid for his coffee and turned away from the counter, nearly right into Matt. Shiro was right; this kid actually did look angry.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” The cadet looked right at him, expression unchanging.

“I’m Matt. My friend over there,” He made a casual off-hand gesture toward Shiro, who was doing his best to hide behind his mug, “was really impressed with your performance in the simulator the other day. If you have a few minutes, he’d really like to talk to you.”

Matt watched his gaze shift over to Shiro. Shiro with his pilled sweats, grubby white trainers, and greasy bed-head. “Oh I know who he is. He’s the Garrison Golden Boy.” He made no move, however, to go say hello.

“Come on. Just 5 minutes?”

The cadet looked out the windows and scanned the room, one thick brow lifted in question. It was raining hard and no tables were free. “Yeah sure, okay.”

Matt found a free chair and pulled it over as they walked back to the table.

Shiro stood, still holding his mug in front of his face, beads of perspiration collected on his forehead. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other while the cadet intently watched him. He looked over at the garment bag for a moment, and then extended his hand, blurting out in Japanese, “Hi! I’m Shiro.”

Matt closed his eyes and frowned. Why was Shiro this nervous? Nothing about this should have been difficult. There were three outcomes; either the kid wasn’t interested, he was, or Shiro changed his mind. It could be argued that Shiro hadn’t made up his mind to begin with, but Matt knew better. He was about ready to call him on his error, but the cadet clasped Shiro’s hand firmly and without hesitation, responded in kind.

Matt glanced over at the garment bag. Kogane. His name was Keith Kogane.

This might turn out okay after all. He pulled his jacket on as quietly as he could, patted Shiro’s shoulder, and walked out into the rain.

+++

One more day of Shiro moping and Matt was going to take it upon himself to put him out of his misery. He didn’t want to do that. He’d miss his best friend.

Matt leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest while he waited outside the classroom. He hoped the bell would ring soon so he wouldn’t be late to his own class. It finally did, but of course Keith would have to be the last one out five very long minutes later. As soon as he crossed the threshold, Matt was beside him, matching his stride step for step. “Hey.”

“It’s you,” derision evident in Keith’s tone. “Mark?”

“Matt.” He kept his voice neutral, though he’d swear this kid was trying to get a rise out of him. “So, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean, Mitch?”

Oh this was going to go well. “Look, Shiro’s really put out. If you’re not interested, will you just tell him?”

“You’ve got to be joking.” Keith’s eyes grew wide as he studied Matt’s face. “You’re not.” He let out a sigh and continued, “I gave him my number. It’s in the back cover of his notebook. Can’t miss it. If he wants to talk to me, he knows how to reach me. He didn’t give me his. Since you’re his handler, be sure to tell him that. I gotta go.” With that, Keith turned on his heel and walked the opposite direction.

So Shiro had Keith’s number but hadn’t called him? What was he going to do with that boy?

He waited until Keith turned down a corridor before heading the same direction. The last thing he wanted was for this kid to think he was following him, but this was also the fastest route to his next class. He had to book it if he was going to get there on time, but he stopped short upon hearing Keith addressing someone in Japanese.

Shiro.

Matt crept right up to the corner where Keith had turned and stopped to listen. If he stood just a little to the left he could actually make out the vague forms of their reflections in the polished steel walls.

Shiro said something he couldn’t understand then swapped to, “You don’t seem very comfortable with this. Can we speak English? Why are you speaking Japanese anyway?”

“Huh. So you do speak fluent English.”

“Uh, yeah? We’re in an English speaking school, of course I speak English.”

“Then why did you have an entire conversation with me in Japanese?”

“I did?”

“Yes. Three hours of solid conversation in Japanese. My Japanese is terrible!”

“I wouldn’t say it’s terrible. More like middle school proficiency.”

Keith groaned. “OK. Fine. So, why did you send Mick to come harass me?”

“You mean Matt?”

“Whatever.” Matt could practically hear Keith’s eyes roll.

“I didn’t send him to do anything.”

“Yeah, well, he got all up in my face about you. What do you want, flyboy?”

Shiro paused. Matt’s stomach tightened. He hoped Shiro wouldn’t mess this up any more than he already had, however inadvertent it was.

“Are you free tomorrow night?”

Good. Shiro could do this. His voice hadn’t even cracked.

“I have to study.”

“It’s Friday, surely-”

“I have to study,” Keith repeated, clearly irritated. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Oh Shiro. Matt shook his head. He could just make out Shiro shuffling aside to let Keith by. This was bad. He put himself right in the middle of the path as his friend came around the corner.

Shiro let out his breath and slumped against the wall. Inhaling deeply, he noticed he wasn’t alone and looked up with a start, “Matt!”

“Shiro.” Matt inclined his head.

“So I just-”

Matt cut him off, “Yeah, I heard you two.”

“I-”

“You go right back after him. Now.” Matt peered around the corner but Keith was gone. “Or not.”

Shiro closed his eyes. “I blew it. I don’t know why he makes me feel this way, but every time I see him, it’s like my throat seizes up and my stomach gets very heavy and my feet don’t work right and what even are words?”

“’What-even-are-words...’” Matt repeated. “Yeah, that’s bad. You definitely said words, and they were fine, you just didn't pick the right ones. Sometimes the direct response isn’t the best response. But look, he didn’t tell you he wanted you to stop did he?”

“No, but he sure dropped a really big hint.”

“Never mind that.” Matt reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He handed it to Shiro. “Here, this is his schedule.”

Shiro unfolded it to look at the class list with associated days and times in Matt’s careful and precise handwriting. “How did you get this?”

Matt smirked and shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “I have my ways.” Ways that included hacking into the administration servers. He pushed his glasses back up his nose. “You did get his number, didn’t you?” Matt cringed internally. One of these days he was going to mess up big time.

Shiro nodded, folding the schedule up and stuffing it into his pocket.

“Call him after his last class.”

Shiro bowed his head. “Okay.”

With a slight huff and wry smile, Matt clapped him on the shoulder. “You can do it.” He checked his watch. He didn’t want to go to class anyway. “And if not, I got your back.”

+++

Promptly at 1730, Matt knocked on the door to Shiro’s dorm room.

“Yeah?” came the muffled voice from within.

“It’s me,” he called.

The door opened. Shiro had changed out of his uniform into his training sweats and favorite worn hoodie.

Matt stepped inside. “You going to call that kid?” he settled himself in Shiro’s desk chair, leaning back and propping his feet up.

Shiro frowned, settling himself cross-legged on his bed. “No.”

“I knew you’d say that, which is why I’m here.” Matt’s lips drew into a straight line cutting across his face, his brows knit together. He scanned the room, looking for Shiro’s notebook, finally spotting it on the nightstand. He swung his legs down and stood up to go grab it. Before Shiro was able to stop him, he had it in hand and had backed out of reach. He flipped to the back cover. There it was, ‘Keith’ in red marker, written in block letters with characters beneath and the four-digit internal extension. Easy peasy.

“How did you know it was in there?” Shiro extended a long arm, hand outstretched for the notebook.

Matt shook his head. “The kid told me.”

“Ugh Maaaaatt!” Shiro whined. He picked up a dirty sock and half-heartedly threw it across the room at his friend but it fell short, landing at Matt’s feet.

“Don’t you have a hamper for that?” Matt quipped returning his attention to the task at hand as he picked the phone up off the desk. He dialed the extension and held out the receiver.

Shiro threw his hands up and shook his head. It was ringing.

“Take it,” Matt mouthed.

“Hello?” came the voice from the phone.

Shiro glared at Matt, then reached out and grabbed it. “Hi. Keith?”

Matt collapsed back into the chair, watching, waiting, and listening to the side of the conversation he could hear.

Somehow or other, Shiro managed to get himself a date. He let the phone fall from his hand and flopped backwards onto his bed.

“Happy now?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Satisfied?”

Shiro snorted. “That remains to be seen.”

“You’re welcome. Though I must say, I don’t know what you see in him. He has no redeeming qualities. He’s not even nice.”

“I think you two got off on the wrong foot.”

“It wasn’t me!”

Shiro chuckled. “We’re going to town to grab burgers tomorrow. Wanna come?”

Matt raised both eyebrows. “No. It’s your date, not mine.”

+++

Keith’s schedule was not the only one Matt had filched from the admin servers. Shiro hadn’t told him he was leading the simulation sessions today. Granted, he had not asked either. He suspected Shiro didn’t want him intervening, but to be fair, it wasn’t his fault Shiro was completely incapable of conducting personal relationships.

He stepped out of the elevator onto the Observation Deck and checked in with the security officer. While he was not normally permitted here, Shiro would likely be returning after the session to debrief with the commanding officers and Matt was still on Shiro’s team for class-based training sessions. He could hone his piloting skills wherever with whomever, but Matthew Holt and Takashi Shirogane were still assigned together.

The deck was nearly empty. He took a seat with a direct line of sight to the monitors and pretended to start his homework while he waited. He had a terrible view out the window, however the screens showed him everything up close inside the simulation unit: pilot consoles, communications, engineering, all from cameras above, in front, and behind the students. Fifteen students in five groups of three and Keith had to be in the very last group. Each team was assigned a different scenario so that there was no advantage from one to the next. The sessions were fairly short, no longer than twenty minutes apiece, sometimes less, which made the wait bearable. Turning on the volume would have been suspicious, so Matt watched in silence. It was almost worth suffering through the failures, some near successes, of the first four teams just to see the last one.

Some of the students were having trouble getting used to the sim unit, many of them with little to no prior experience in their chosen fields past what they had learned in high school, so Shiro would be accompanying them all inside the simulator just this once. The first thing Matt noticed was how on-edge Shiro seemed as he followed the final group of first-years through the door and started the simulation. Of course the boy was tense, he had to play instructor to the kid he was taking out on a date later that same day. Shiro stretched his arms, took a deep breath, and ran a hand through his hair. Matt wondered if this team had balked at the idea of being accompanied by an instructor. There was no disguising the disgust and annoyance on Keith’s face and the sullen expression the comms officer wore. In contrast the engineer was a paragon of unwavering stoicism. They took their positions. Shiro sat in the empty copilot chair between the pilot and communications.

Matt glanced at the pilot screen, immediately recognizing the scenario. He found himself wishing he could hear their dialogue. This might actually be interesting.

Keith’s brow furrowed and his jaw set hard as he listened to the report from comms. She should have received a distress signal from an Earth civilian cargo ship that had hit a gravitic mine above the Independent base on the Ishtar Terra Highlands of Venus. Matt had done this scenario twice. The hull was breached and the ship rapidly losing both power and life support. The cadets would have to decide whether or not to violate treaty and enter the space above the Ishtar Terra region with their fighter class craft, potentially inciting the wrath of the Venusian Independents, who had broken nearly all ties with Earth and were in possession of both a highly competent military starfleet and nuclear warheads.

Keith said something, checking systems on his console, and zooming in to get a clear view of the disabled craft. He pulled their ship back, careful to not approach closely. Twisting in his chair, he leaned out toward comms and then looked back at engineering. He spoke again, this time to the engineer and pointed back to the main screen. Engineering ran a systems check and referred back to comms before holding a hand, thumb up, where Keith could see it in the mirrored reflection above the windshield. Nodding once, Keith returned the gesture. On-screen, the communications officer appeared to be trying different channels and frequencies to verify the distress signal.

Shiro got up from his seat, seemingly to observe each of the students. He leaned over Keith’s shoulder gesturing to something on the screen, one hand on the back of the chair, their faces nearly touching. After a moment, Keith reached out, grabbed his hand, and squeezed it before pushing him away. Wow that kid was bold. Matt didn’t have a clear view of Shiro’s face, but he thought he caught bemusement before the camera shifted again. Keith raised himself off his seat to peer over Shiro, clearly addressing comms and engineering who immediately went to check something. Seconds later, life pods flashed as verified on the pilot’s second screen.

Keith and comms were talking to each other over across the cabin, both of them upset about something. The pilot slammed his hand down on his console, surprising himself and the rest of the crew and sending the ship lurching forward and forcing him to turn back to the controls. He uttered something under his breath, fingers flying across the panel as he brought the ship back on course and into perfect alignment. He brushed his bangs off his forehead with the back of his hand.

What were they thinking? Matt checked the time. They needed to act quickly.

Shiro might have been asking the same question. The camera picked up the glow of perspiration through the fade of his undercut. Shiro turned to comms, casually brushing his fingers across Keith’s shoulder. Matt was having a hard time watching their body language; he was more interested in what the first years were going to actually do with this simulation. During his team’s first attempt, they had been so involved in a philosophical discussion of the consequences of their actions that the crew of the cargo vessel had died and Shiro had allowed their ship to cruise right into the Venusian territory, an action immediately declared an act of war. He turned around to see if anyone else was watching this, but he was alone. It was most likely being viewed on a private feed in Commander Iverson’s office.

This was like watching a movie. He wished he had popcorn.

When Matt focused his attention back to the screen, Keith and Shiro were having a heated discussion, the first year aggressively jabbing his finger at the console. The communications officer interrupted, distressed by something and Keith immediately stopped to listen to her while she spoke. It must have been a dispatch from High Command. Matt knew that if the cadets did not hail their commanding officer, that officer would contact them. Keith nodded curtly then replied before unbuckling his safety harness and standing. Before Shiro could react, Keith grabbed him by the shoulder, and shoved, actually shoved, him down into the pilot’s seat. Keith barked what had to be a command at them. It wracked his whole body and Matt could see the droplets of sweat spray off his hair as he moved. The comms officer put her hands up and shook her head vigorously, but Keith merely nodded and pointed at her screen first then his. He paced the cabin, gesticulating, speaking to one or both or neither of the crew, and then pressing his fingers into his forehead just above the bridge of his nose, likely to clear his sinuses. Keith remained like that for several very long seconds before he turned back to Shiro and knelt beside him clearly motioning to points on the console map. As soon as he had an acknowledgement, he stood up again, patting Shiro’s shoulder.

Upon the engineer’s return, Keith addressed him and waved a hand toward the pilot’s chair. The engineer nodded and strapped himself back in his seat. Something had been done to one of the life pods, it now flashed red on the engineering view with a caption that Matt couldn’t quite make out, even as he leaned forward to get a better look.

Keith unzipped his uniform jacket, peeled it off, and dropped it in Shiro’s lap. Salty tidelines stained the back and front of his light gray undershirt and down under his arms. He lifted the front of his shirt to wipe his face, poised so only the pilot and the camera could see. To be fair, the kid was ripped, but the timing seemed highly inappropriate.

What the heck was going on?

After several long seconds, Keith walked to the back door and let himself off the bridge. Almost immediately after the door slid shut behind him, Keith’s voice crackled over the intercom from outside the simulation unit.

“Commander Iverson, this is Pilot Cadet Kogane. I am taking the pod with activated hyperdrive over to the cargo vessel. If there are in fact civilians still alive in there, I will make every attempt to bring them to safety. The log record of this ship from the point after we received the distress signal from the civilian vessel has been destroyed. I have instructed my crew to broadcast my presumed mutiny to the Galaxy Garrison in the event there is an intercept and to make no attempt at my rescue. I take complete responsibility for my actions and fully understand the consequences of my decision. Signing off.” He cut the connection before a response could be issued. The rear camera rotated until he was in view, back against the door, breathing hard, sliding down until his butt hit the floor. He pressed his forehead into his knees, both hands gripped in his hair.

Simulation terminated. The red light flashed over the simulator. Keith must have turned off the sound feed to the commander at the point he decided he didn’t want their in-flight actions to be on record. Despite destruction of the logs, they were not able to erase the black box record of what they had done. A gutsy move for first year students, but their actions were all on video, tracked through the consoles, and an instructor was present. There would be another discussion in the commander’s office, Matt knew. The purpose of this exercise was to judge the cadet’s character, and he had no idea how this one was going to be judged. In Matt’s opinion, which was worth next to nothing in the grand scheme of things, it was unfair to run the cadets through observation simulations in their first year, especially two weeks in a row. They would benefit more from honing their skills. However, these cadets had quickly understood and analyzed the possibilities. They had made the three top scores that year for their specialties. They were a good group and would make an amazing team.

Matt stood and went over to the window, where he watched them leave the simulator. Shiro sent the students off, all but Keith, who had managed to stand up again at the back exit, bent over, hands propped on his thighs just above his knees. Shiro extended a hand. There were several feet between the rear of the simulator and the platform. Though Keith could have gone back through the unit, he took the proffered hand, easily making the jump and then letting go almost immediately, taking his jacket from Shiro. Keith wiped his face again and raked his hair off his forehead, but it fell right back into his eyes. He wrinkled his nose and to Matt’s horror, lifted an arm and buried his face in his pit. Matt wished he could have seen Shiro’s expression, but his friend’s face was hidden from view. They made their way together toward the Observation elevators, in what was, to all appearances friendly banter. Matt closed his books. He’d better get out of there before they arrived.

At least now Matt knew he hadn’t understood Keith at all.

He wasn’t sure he did now.

+++

Matt looked at his watch. He collected his books into his backpack and picked himself up off the floor, settling beside Shiro on the bed. “You gotta go soon.” He bent one elbow behind his head and tugged with his other hand. After a minute, he swapped, stretching his other arm.

“Yeah,” came the listless reply. Shiro lay on his bed, _Advanced Aerodynamics_ textbook open across his chest.

“You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“I was just thinking about this afternoon’s sim sessions.”

“Observing again?”

“Nah, leading this time, and they wanted me on-board since a lot of the students are having difficulty understanding how the scenarios work.”

“What happened?” He was curious to hear what Shiro would tell him about it.

“Well, we failed.”

“We?”

“All fifteen first-years and me.”

“Ouch.”

“Keith’s group was fun at least.”

“The rest of them weren’t?”

“Well, I’m not really there to have fun…”

“Aw c’mon. What made it fun?”

“Well, he was the only one who thought to make use of me as an extra body on board. I thought it was pretty clever, even if it wasn’t going to work.”

“What simulation was it?” Matt made sure to ask the right questions.

“ _Ishtar Venusia_ , you know the one over the Independent base on the Ishtar Terra Highland?”

Matt groaned and hoped it was convincing. “So what was his solution?”

“Self-sacrifice. Since I’m a pilot, he ordered me to take the crew back.” He shrugged and looked over at the clock on his nightstand. “I felt it was fair. You’re allowed to make use of everything within the simulation unit while it is running. He had the engineer install one of the backup hyperdrives into a life pod so he could attempt a solo rescue.”

“What kind of marks did he get?”

“Pretty high for creative thinking and strength of character, actually. I was surprised.”

“That’s good though, right?”

“Well, then Iverson took all those points away for breaking communications with his commanding officer, blatant insubordination, and going rogue.”

Matt laughed. “Those two are getting off to a great start.”

“It’s a little concerning actually.” Shiro stared at a point on the ceiling. Matt was sure he wasn’t going to talk much more about it, but that was okay.

With a sigh and a grunt, Shiro roused himself off the bed and located his boots. He’d actually bothered to dress himself in something other than sweats to leave the garrison for once. He grabbed his wallet and opened the door, waiting for Matt to exit first before locking up behind them.

“You tell me how it goes, okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” Shiro smiled and raised his hand in greeting. Matt looked over his shoulder to see Keith heading toward them, back in that ridiculous leather jacket get-up. Well, it wasn’t so far removed from Shiro’s asymmetrical hoodie, oversized shirt, and compression pants. They could be fashion disasters together. He turned back to Shiro, taking note of the rivulet of sweat at his temple and pink flush blossoming across his nose.

Leaning in, Matt whispered, “You’re doing great, Sho.”

An immediate swift kick to the shin was delivered. That was the Shiro Matt wanted to see. It would probably leave a bruise, but he didn’t really care.

Keith looked from Shiro to Matt, the corners of his mouth turned down and one brow rose questioning, “Am I interrupting something?”

“Nope.” Matt threw up his hands. “I am on my way out.” He let his arms fall to his sides as he turned and walked away.

“Later Moe.” Keith called after him.

Eventually that kid would run out of ‘M’ names.

+++

Matt sat in the common room with the lights out, watching out the window. The last bus should have just arrived and they’d better have been on it if they were going to make curfew, otherwise good luck. He let his breath out in relief when he finally spotted them heading back through the gate. Were they holding hands? Good, this was good. Shiro must have done something right. He could just see them, standing together a little ways yet from the door. Any closer and he wouldn’t have been able to because of the angle.

One of Shiro’s hands was tangled in Keith’s hair, the other partially tucked into the waistband of his pants at the small of his back. Keith had flung both arms around Shiro’s neck. Their faces were locked together. Was that a kiss? He squinted and blinked a few times before he took his glasses off, fogged the lenses with his breath and wiped them on his jeans. When he replaced them on his face and looked outside again, they were still locked hips and lips in that awkward embrace only now Shiro’s hand had disappeared entirely and Keith’s were lost to the folds of Shiro’s shirt.

Matt stepped away from the window. It was time to return to his room. His work here was complete.


End file.
